


a little something for the pain

by salazarastark



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Drugs, Family, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarastark/pseuds/salazarastark
Summary: Sean convinces Alex it's a good idea to buy Scott some pot, but he just never expected it to be Hank McCoy.





	a little something for the pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asuralucier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/gifts).



The last straw is when Alex comes home from work to find Scott curled up on the couch, gripping his head, whimpering, and crying. The blinds are up, letting the bright sunlight stream in, which means that Scott’s migraine had come on so quickly and with such force that he had been able to do anything other than collapse.

He closes the blinds, grabs a washcloth and wets it in cold water in the bathroom, and hurries back out to Scott. Scott has loosened up a small increment, but his face is still one of misery. Softly, Alex places the cloth on his forehead. He knows that it’s not going to help, but it helps him and Scott to pretend like there's something either of them can do.

“How long?” he whispers. Scott shakes his head. Alex has had a long time to read his brother, and he knows what that head shake means. Scott doesn’t know how long its been, just that it's been too long. “What do you need?”

“New brain,” Scott slurs. “One that isn’t such a fuck-up.”

Alex makes a small noise of sympathy. “Come on, Scott, let’s get you into bed.”

He grips his little brother by the shoulders and pulls him slowly into a sitting position. Scott whines at the movement, but otherwise does nothing as Alex gently lifts him up and carries him to his bedroom.

His little brother is getting tall and muscular, and soon he won’t be able to do this anymore.

That thought tears at something inside Alex. He’s glad to see the strong, young man that his brother is growing up to be, but he misses the kid he was.

The distance isn’t far, and Alex has Scott into bed and completely covered up by blankets in five minutes. The room is prepared for his migraines. They’ve been getting worse and worse over the past few months and the docs say that nothing is really wrong, it’s just that . . . it’s just that Scott’s brain is fucked up. Literally. The brain damage that he sustained from the car crash that killed their parents did this to him, and is going to keep doing this to him.

Alex hates it so fucking much.

He gets his brother settled into pajamas and into bed, and smoothes back his hair as he curls into a ball. "Hope you get some rest," he murmurs. Scott's only response is a whimper. Alex sighs.

He creeps out of the room, closing the door behind softly. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and with a small groan, he pulls it out. He really hopes its not work, there's no way he can come in today.

 _Drinks?_ It's Sean.

 _No,_ he responds. _Migraine_.

Sean, Armando, and Angel have known Alex since he was a bratty fifteen year old. They were the only people who cared about him other than Scott when he went to juvie. They made sure that Scott got the presents Alex wanted to get him for Christmas and birthday, saving up their money and giving that gift to both of them. (First thing Alex paid back after he got a job, even though they tried to refuse.) 

They were by his side when he was eighteen and struggling to get his life back on track without his parents help when they died and left Alex is the only person to take care of a brain-damaged twelve year old.

 _Be over in thirty with beers and whispers_.

They're his family.

*

It takes them only twenty minutes to arrive and pile in the living room with beers from Sean, chips and salsa from Armando, and mint chocolate chip ice cream from Angel. Alex throws in some frozen pizzas in the oven, and they have a great party on their hands. It's small and mismatched, all sitting on the floor around the coffee table, but it's theirs. It's them.

"Okay," Alex laughs quietly. "So you just _told_ your boss that you wouldn't work Saturday's any more in those exact words?"

Sean shifts in his seat, caught in a lie. "Well, I _meant_ it even if those weren't more words. I'm sure he got my meaning. But it's not fair! Julie gets it off because she doesn't want to wake up that early? _I_ don't want to wake up that early. It's not like Kyle, who has an actual medical condition. She _can_. She's just lazy."

"Well, I think you _should_ have told your manager that, in those exact words. Asshole can't expect you to always be there," Angel says before taking a big swig of beer. She gains a thoughtful look on her face. "You should find another job."

"I'm looking! But everything's filled and everything that's open is even worse. I should know, I worked them!" The last word reaches a high pitch, and instantly they all shush Sean, who winces.

For a minute, they sit in silence, but they hear nothing coming from Scott's room, not even a shuffle. A silent breath of relief leaves all of them.

"Poor kid," Armando says sympathetically. "They're getting worse?"

"So much worse," Alex frowns. "The doc's say it's nothing to worry about, that all the scans are normal. But fuck, he's in so much _pain_. His meds are hardly working anymore."

"Is there anything else you can do?" Angel asks.

Alex shakes his head. "I can't think of anything."

"What about pot?" Sean asks. Alex turns his head sharply in his direction and glares. He knows Sean loves pot, Angel likes it, and Armando uses it socially. Alex hasn't used it since his parents died, too afraid of doing anything that will risk Scott being taken away from him. He's pretty sure giving it to him would increase that risk. He opens his mouth to tell Sean _exactly_ what he thinks of that suggestion, but before he can start, Angel interrupts him with a musing, "That's actually not a bad idea."

Alex is shocked at her agreeing with this insane idea, and even more so when he sees Armando nodding out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you guys fucking kidding me?" he asks. "I'm not going to give my little brother _pot_."

*

He’s sitting next to a antsy Sean in a booth at Polarity, the local diner for the college, as they wait for Sean’s drug dealer to show, because apparently Alex _is_ going to buy his little brother pot.

He can’t believe he got talked into this.

“Is your guy almost here?” he mutters to Sean, who shrugs.

“Should be coming soon. Sometimes he is a little late. He has papers to grade.”

“Papers?” Alex asks, but his line of questioning is interrupted by Hank-fucking-McCoy, Alex’s biochem TA and his longstanding crush. It’s not his fault! Hank just has an incredible brain and a nice smile and is really fucking handsome. He’s also the only instructor that Alex has that _understands_ that sometimes Alex _has_ to prioritize Scott or his job before his classes. He actually helps Alex figure out different plans. Well, Professor Xavier understands as well, but Alex is pretty sure that’s because of Hank.

But as he looks at the bag Hank is holding close to him, and then at how Sean’s eyes light up, all he can think is _oh, fuck_. Of _course_ , Hank was too good to be true.

Hank’s walk falter slightly when he sees Alex, but to his credit, he just straightens his spine and continues walking towards them, forcing his head up high.

“I will not ask questions if you don’t either,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he slides into the booth across from them. Alex shrugs as his mouth tightens. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You two know each other?” Sean asks, taking a huge slurp out of his Coke while he looks at them. Both Hank and Alex turn to glare at him. He shrugs. “Didn’t know.”

“Alex is a student,” Hank says stiffly.

Sean blinks. “So? You sell to a lot of your students. Don’t you give them a discount if they have good grades?”

“Is that _ethical_?” Alex asks.

Hank shrugs. “I don’t teach philosophy. What does it matter to me?”

Alex sputters. “Are you- Oh my God, you _are_. Look, let’s just do this. How much will it cost?”

Hank leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. Fuck, he’s still hot. Fuck, Alex is still pissed at him. Fuck, Alex is pissed at himself because he’s a hypocrite because Alex is buying the pot, so what’s the big deal if Hank is selling it? Supply and demand and all that jazz. And he has friends that do this and he doesn’t judge them, so why the fuck is getting so prissy about Hank.

He’s forced out of his introspection by Hank’s snide “What are you looking for?”

“Something that’ll help with migraines. My baby brother has bad ones. Shit, you know, you’ve heard me mention it. Anyway, nothing works, so I need something that will and I’m getting desperate.”

Hank’s shoulders hunch over a bit, his defenses falling down the slightest bit. “Brain damage, right?”

Alex nods, the small knot that always in his throat over the fact that his baby brother might not ever be able to live a life without pain growing larger as he blinks his eyes. “Yeah. Look, sorry I’m being shitty. But _please_ , just give me something that’ll help him.”

Hank’s nodding as he digs in his bag. “Yeah, I got you.” He pulls out a three joints and lays them out on the table. Alex jumps at the casual way he did it, and instantly looks around the diner to see if any cops are here to see and cart the three of them off to jail. Sean laughs. “Dude, relax. _Erik_ owns this restaurant.” He points to the man wearing the ACAB shirt. “Hank sells to him too.”

“Yeah, I have his and Charle’s supply here too,” Hank says casually.

“Charles like _Professor Xavier_?” Alex is not proud at how high his voice gets. Hank raises an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that you don’t think he smokes? Why do you think I was _hired_?”

Alex’s entire world is crumbling, but he shakes his head and forces himself to move on. “How much?” he mumbles. Hank tilts his head, doing complex mental math in his head here in this diner just like he does in the classroom and the crush is still here.

Why won’t the crush leave?

“Twenty bucks.” Hank finally says. Sean raises an eyebrow, and Alex figures he’s either being ripped off or given a significant discount and he honestly doesn’t care which one it is right now. He just hands over the cash, takes the joints, and leaves.

Now he just has to convince Scott to smoke them after spending a guardianship telling him “Just say no!”

*

Scott eyes the joint warily. Alex attempts a smile, but he feels it more of a grimace.

“Are you sure it’ll help?”

Alex nods. He had actually done the research before he met with Hank, not wanting to get his little brother high just because of an urban legend. It actually is going to help with the pain and anxiety, and he printed out the pages to prove it, knowing how much his brother needs to look at it before he makes a decision.

Alex is always constantly surprised that Scott isn’t a fuck-up, and so fucking proud that his little brother is so good that Alex couldn’t manage to screw him up.

Scott flicks through the papers, eyes the joint, and then looks back at the papers. He bites his lip, and then looks up at Alex. He always wears sunglasses to help his eyes because of the light sensitivity, but he’s gotten very good at reading his brother’s expression over the years.

Scott is nervous as hell.

He licks his lips. “Will you. . . . Will you do it with me?”

“Of course, buddy.”

*

Fuck, he forgot how great pot was. Scott's next to him on the couch, giggling at Parks and Rec as Alex smiles and relaxes into it.

"How you feeling?"

" _Sooooo_ good. You should get more of this."

Alex had figured. He had already texted Hank, asked him if it would be okay if he came by the diner to pick up some more joints tomorrow. He'll make Scott pace them out, actually he's going to keep them under lock and key in his room, but this is worth the investment.

His phone buzzes, and he smiles at the short, " _Sure_ " before turning back to the TV and takes another hit of the joint that Scott fumbles into his hand.

Goddamn, he really did miss pot.

*

It takes Alex longer than it should have in the morning to get ready because it takes him longer than it should have to realize that he’s trying to look _good_ for Hank. He nearly gives up in disgust towards himself, but stops.

He doesn’t want to look _bad_ after all.

It’s a rare Saturday where he isn’t working, so he figures he drops Scott off at the movies with his friends and pick up the joints before going on all these errands that he needs to get done and then attempt to clean the house like it needs to be.

The remaining doubts that he has about Scott smoking pot to take the edge off is gone when he sees how easy he’s moving in the morning. He’s gotten so used to seeing his little brother in pain, that seeing him like this, happy and relaxed, is strange.

He knows that he should look up things about medical marijuania and have a talk with Scott’s doctor about why the fuck he didn’t tell them about this earlier, but right now, he’s just getting excited and dreadful about meeting Hank again.

Goddamn it, why does he have to have a crush like he’s a kid Scott’s age? He even gets to the diner fifteen minutes early.

He doesn’t want it means that Hank gets there ten minute earlier.

“Alright,” Hank says, sliding into the booth across from him. “I have more of the joints. They helped?”

Alex nods. “Like a charm. Gotta admit I wasn’t fully expecting it.”

Hank smiles at that, big and bright, and Alex fucking preens at that. He’s so done with himself. “Glad I could prove you wrong.”

Two menus are thrown down at their table by a silver-haired kid who doesn’t even pause before he continues toward the kitchen. Before Alex can even open his mouth to explain they aren’t going to need them, Hank opens one up. “What do you want?” he asks. “I skipped breakfast so I am _famished_.”

Is this a date? No, Alex is being stupid. Hank is just taking the opportunity to eat and it wouldn’t matter who was sitting across from him. The butterflies in his stomach need to calm down.

“Biscuits and gravy,” he mutters as he looks down on his end. Hank tilts his head, and then nods definitively once, much like he does with a difficult math problem and wants to be sure he’s right. “Good choice. I’ll have the same.”

*

This strange brunch ends up lasting for two hours between them discussing the class assignments, the newest topics of interest in the scientific world, Hank’s hilarious stories about the people he sells weed to (a surprising number of them being Professor Xavier and Alex will never look at that man the same way again), and Alex telling Hank all about Scott. They’re still talking as they pay and head out of the diner, Hank laughing as Alex finishes up his story about how he and Sean thought they were in a horror story one night as they were camping in boy scouts while really it had just been a deer.

“So he just pushed you down?”

“He claims to this day that it was an accident. I don’t believe him. Either way, it ends up with him outrunning me.”

Hank has a really nice laugh, especially when he can’t control it.

But they’re at Alex’s car now, and he doesn’t think he delay leaving again. He waits until Hank’s laughter has died down to the occasional chuckle, and then jerks his head towards the beaten up pick-up. “Look, this is mine, so I guess I gotta-”

Hank is kissing him. Holy shit, Hank is _kissing_ him.

And he’s a really good kisser too. Not too soft, not too hard. He pulls back all too soon, and smiles bashfully. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I just wanted to do that for a while. And well, since I think we’ll be seeing more of each other because of your brother and well, you're incredibly smart and kind and I really enjoy your smile and-”

Alex pulls him back into a kiss. He can run errands later.

He’s just so glad he decided to buy Scott some pot.


End file.
